The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1887-04-14

old-time tenderness. All WE'LL for
wears he had been careless, he had
coolly thrown her upon society for
friendship. amusement. entertainment;
what affection or companionship could
she find therep Had she but been
blessed with children, surely it would
have been different. She could have
been absorbed by them as he by bust
ness. Business was n monster that had
chilled and darkened all their home
and flame of love.
And Lester Howard was so sensible,
tender, so devoted. yet with no trace
of imbecility. He understood as by in
tuition her every thought and want.
Had she but met and married him first,
all had been well.
But this she had consented to was
not well. How could it be we'll for her
when it damned other women?
Probably Arthur did not love her,
neither did she feel as interested in him
as nee. Might not she and Lester
weary of each other similarly?
Admit they would not, yet she knew
now she had done wrong in leaving
stern-faced duty for pleasant. smiling
love. Already she missed respectable
ty. And she had been 30 pure, so
proud, so far beyond temptation!
The door swung softly open and a
little child, perhaps six OF seven years
old, slid softly into the room.
Myra took scant note, but being by
nature kind and courteous, extended
an idle hand toward the timid intruder.
Slowly the child crossed the room and
her baby hand slipped within the white
palm awaiting her. Myra was gazing
on the street, or sky, anything or moth
ing without the window. and the baby
stood quietly watching her brown eyes.
her shining hair, and amused herself
playing with the lady's fingers and
rings.
The child's presence was comfort
ing, her silence a real charm, so, short
ly, Myra lifted her to her lap, where
she too might view the scene outside.
Thought growing bitter and memory
a sting, Myra turned her attention to
the little one.
who are you, dear; what is your
name ?"
Isabel"
"Have you u away from mama P'
mo; mama has gone away from me;
she is dead"
Myra pressed the child to her heart.
Poor little motherless one; why had
not fate given her the child? Then
she had been spared the folly into
which she was now falling. While her
mind would run upon her own affairs,
as if to keep those clear blue baby eyes
from reading all her soul, she on
tinued to question the child at random.
Thus she learned that while the
mother had been some time dead, the
father had died only a few weeks be-
fore, here in the hotel; and it became
plain to Myra the child had no home,
no people, and only through pity was,
for the present, sheltered bv the
Temple House! Then a silence fell,
and thought flew on the faster, while
the baby sat still on Myra's knee.
Who can follow the thoughts that
flashed and famed through Myra's
mind? Slowly the big tears welled up
to her brown eyes and dripped over
her fair, round cheek.
Was she already regretting her
wrong step, her voluntary fall from the
high places of principle, honor, and
respectabilityp Aye!
And the little ones soft voice broke
in upon her fearful reverie.
did your papa think you had pretty
b lands, too? and did he pat and kiss
them too, like my papa did mine?"
Her father! At mention of him he
seemed to stand before her, and he had
been in the spirit land for years!
A gentle, honorable man, with soft
and silver hair, with kind eyes that
beamed with tenderness and pride and
fatherly love as they turned upon her!
Oh Lord of earth and heaven, what
must be his feelings toward her now!
And she had been his pride and joy,
his darling only daughter!
Why had nc thought OF memory of
her father reached her sooner and
saved her from this sinful step? Was
this stran ge. silent child an angel he
had sent to save her, even at this last
late, Dire adful moment?
''What did you say?" cried Myra,
with startling vigor. But Baby Belle
was not frightened by her vehemence,
only bewildered, and she slowly repeat
ed her inquiry.
Myra held forth her hands and
looked at them. Never before had she
realized how very like her fathers
they were-now the resemblance was
startling indeed!
Yes, surely, her hands were fair
things to look upon, and their beauty
had been a pride to her loving father
How he had enjoved giving her
pretty jewels. valuable rings, and
dainty gloves, yet always wisely teach
ing that a woman's hands, to be fair
in sight of men and angels, must be
ever adorned with charity, gentleness,
and kindenss. And once-how wildly
it flashed to memory now-some grace
full, kind act of devotion to an old,
homeless, sick stranger, coming to his
knowledge, he had patted her hands
proudly, saying: '.Now I know these
dear hands belong to agood and Christ
ian girl! one not ashamed to be a sen.
sible working Christian, and 1 am
proud, my child, to say these hands
are mine!" Which last was in playful
reference to the strong resemblance to
to his own. And now see them! Her
fotbar,S bondS vat hold thorn hefora